


across the stars

by LIGHTSJOON



Category: ONF (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst and Tragedy, Best Friends, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Modern Setting Retelling of Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Mount Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, fictional characters, guess you'll have to read to find out, if seungjun says his name is spelled with a u its spelled with a u, mortal seungjun, my friend had a dream and so im bringing it to life, this work will diverge from the canonical stories regarding the Greek gods and goddesses, toxic families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:28:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26573752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LIGHTSJOON/pseuds/LIGHTSJOON
Summary: fate is a funny thing. especially when your best friends are the sons of gods and goddesses.
Relationships: Kim Hyojin/Lee Seungjoon | J-Us, Lee Changyoon | E-Tion/Park Minkyun | MK, Mizuguchi Yuto | U/Shim Jaeyoung | Wyatt
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	1. the son of a goddess and the realm

“What if we get caught?” 

“We’re  _ not _ going to get caught…” 

“And how do you know that?” 

Hyojin rolled his eyes, kicking Seungjun in the shin as he peered over the bush to make sure their prey was still within sight. “Because you’re with  _ me _ .” He winked, his arrow already rooted in the bow when he jumped up and let it speed towards the large buck they’d been stalking for the last hour and a half. 

The buck took three arrows to the chest before it finally caved from the pain that likely spread throughout its body. 

“And it’s  _ because of you _ that our chances of being caught are infinitely greater…” Seungjun stood a little straighter, silently admiring the clean shots his best friend had unleashed. Even though he wasn’t a deity himself, he was a far greater huntsman than Hyojin could ever be. “You know you’re not allowed to hunt in the human realm. Your mother forbade it.” 

“Relax,” Hyojin said while slipping his bow over his head. “She’s not going to find out.” 

Seungjun huffed in frustration, he put his hands on either hip for effect. “You said that last time and look what happened. If Artemis finds out about this, she’s going to tell my dad, and if that happens then the world itself might just end.” 

Hyojin plucked the ornately decorated arrows from the carcass one at a time. Perhaps he was admiring his quick work, but Seungjun was too bitterly annoyed to care. 

“Did you even listen to a single word I said?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyojin waved a hand passively. “End of the world. Got it.” 

The urge to nail his best friend in the back with his own arrow was overwhelming, but killing Hyojin would realistically bring about more harm than good. It would take a lot more than a measly arrow to take down the son of a god. He was practically invincible, and perhaps it was that insufferable pride that protected him like a bulletproof vest; it’s his greatest weapon, but his greatest weakness all the same. 

Hyojin shoved the recycled arrows in his pack, momentarily forgetting the buck he’d pinned down, “My mother could care less about anything I do here.” 

“That’s what you think…” Seungjun mumbled in response. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It  _ means  _ you don’t have to deal with the repercussions of your actions in this realm.” His voice was gentle, but there was a bite to it, something inherently cold. “You don’t see it because she pampers you...and I’m the one who has to take the blame.” 

Hyojin crossed the brush that separated them and threw his arm around his neck, “Luckily, you’re human  _ and  _ my best friend...and I guess it also helps that you’re the son of Orion. The most she could ever do is scold you.” 

They began to head back in the direction of the small shack that Seungjun called home, leaving the buck for one of Hyojin’s attendants to...attend to. “It’s not like she stops at a mere scolding, and it’s because our parents are best friends that I have to take the brunt of it. You know what my father is like.” 

The red head hummed in acknowledgement. It almost felt like an apology, but he knew better than anyone that gods don't apologize for anything. 

Seungjun sighed, running a hand through his platinum hair, “Next time you feel like hunting, hunt with the other Olympians, alright?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hyojin chuckled, pulling Seungjun closer until he was practically in a chokehold. “My cousins are dreadfully boring, and  _ you _ are the only person I could ever have this much fun with.”

The younger struggled under the strength that only Olympian’s could ever possess. Since he was the only human amongst their rather small friend group, Hyojin had always been rather unaware of his godly strength. Just the pinch of his fingers could feel like a scalding piece of metal against human skin. 

“Yeah?” Seungjun drawled. “It’s too bad I can’t brag to my nonexistent human friends about how much  _ fun _ my otherworldly best friend is.”

Hyojin playfully tossed him aside, a rouge laugh passing through his lips as they cleared the thick line of trees. The town where Seungjun lived wasn’t too far down the road, and it was here that he and Hyojin would have to part for the day. And every other day.

If Hyojin were exposed to any other person other than him, Artemis would have his head. The forest was their remaining sanctuary. The only place where they could truly be themselves. A place for them to be together. Even if it was only for a few hours at a time. 

“You’ll let me know that you made it home okay, right?” Hyojin asked as if he didn’t already know the answer. He handed over the canister that sheathed the blood soaked arrows to Seungjun, knowing well that he couldn’t be caught dead entering Olympus with rotten weaponry. 

Slinging the canister over his shoulder, Seungjun shuffled backwards a step or two, shooting the elder a wink before stalking off towards home without another word. There was no use looking back, he knew that Hyojin wouldn’t cross over until he was well out of sight. That was their usual routine. Seungjun would part ways with his best friend, knowing that Hyojin could simply snap his fingers and would wind up at his mother’s doorstep. Despite it all, Hyojin would wait to return to Olympus until he made it the whole three miles. 

Once Seungjun reached his own doorstep, he offered a parting wave to Hyojin who was now three miles further away from him. It didn’t take much to recognize whenever Hyojin passed over from this world to the next. 

For whatever reason, without fail, rain would unleash itself upon the earth. Even if it was for the briefest moment in time, it was comforting to know that the pain of parting wasn’t wholly unrequited. 


	2. the son of a goddess and burdens of the universe

“Where have you been?”

Hyojin barely made it through the gates of the monumental estate, when Minkyun suddenly jumped down from one of the towering pillars. 

The elder of the two gazed up at the height of said pillar and then motioned between it and to where his cousin now stood. “How did you—I probably don’t even want to know how the hell you got up there.”

Minkyun flashed him a dazzling smile, his signature look that all of Olympus knew, a look that even the human realm seemed to ponder on the basis of hearsay. “You were walking amongst mortals again, weren’t you? When are you going to realize that you can never be one of them.  _ He _ is never going to be one of us.” 

“And what does any of that have to do with you?” Hyojin retorted. 

“He’s my friend too, you know.”

“ _ Please _ ,” Hyojin scoffed. “You wouldn’t know a damn thing about friendship if it bit you like a snake.” 

Minkyun shrugged and adjusted the glossy kimono that draped over his daily attire, “Tell that to Seungjun then.”

“What are you trying to prove?”

The younger shook his head innocently, “I don’t know what has you so worked up, but whatever it is, you might want to stop into town to get a drink and unwind before heading to your mother’s. If you walk in there now, she’s going to see right through you.” 

“What is going on with you?” Hyojin crossed his arms across his chest. “This isn’t like you, and it also isn’t like you to be out and about without Changyoon.” 

“I’m currently doing him a favor by not being with him—”

Hyojin raised a hand, motioning that he neither cared nor desired to hear much else regarding the subject. Perhaps, it was more so that he truthfully didn’t care for Minkyun. “What are you doing here anyways? You never leave the upper ring of the city.”

“As much as I love the lavish lifestyle of the upper crust, I found myself bored today...that  _ was _ until I saw you leave the grounds.” 

“I—”

“There’s no use in fighting it, you know.” Minkyun drew a hand through his silk-like raven hair, acting as if he wasn’t trying to dangle a threat in between them. “Your very presence can be felt coming and going between both spheres of this world. If I can feel it, your mother definitely can.” 

The connection between gods, goddesses, and their kin was much more primal than that of humans. Humans cared about genuine connection—emotions in particular—while the residents of the celestial heavens couldn’t be bothered by anything other than sheer power. Control. Control over humanity, over the elements, over their own children. 

The divine of Mount Olympus are connected and bound to one another spiritually. Much like how animals rely on pheromones to sense other animals lurking nearby, the spiritual connection that ties the gods together allows them to sense one another through the properties of their general existence. 

“Minkyun, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay out of my business…” Hyojin’s voice was barely a step up from a whisper, but his words were never to be taken lightly. “You’re one of my best friends, and my family, but I’m not afraid to put you six feet under mortal soil if anything happens to Seungjun.”

The younger subtly rolled his eyes, “Geez, did Seungjun break one of your precious arrows or what?”

Hyojin turned away from his cousin and began to make the seemingly endless trek uphill towards his mother’s property. 

The air of Olympus was  _ thick _ . Not in the same way humidity stiffened the Earthen air, nor in the way dry heat seemed to suffocate mortals during the dry seasons. In general, the air of the heavens was considered to be the lightest, perhaps even the most crisp, but it was heaving with the tension that ran deep in the waters of the city. 

The human realm was built up of a blurred hierarchy, the lines between class either distinctly rigid or impossibly blurred. For Hyojin and his endless  _ family,  _ there was no means of escaping the roles that the universe deemed fit for each of them. A natural order—a burdensome and dominating  _ hierarchy _ —that blessed those that were crowned with immaculate power, and cursed those that were slaves to hard work, only to be forgotten by the people that they had been created to protect. They were expected by nature, and by each other, to fulfill those roles to keep universal order, to keep chaos from consuming humanity and the natural order that had been established amongst it. It was because of said expectations that the indecipherable families of Olympus spent each and every day selfishly vying for power they were not meant to wield. 

His own mother, Artemis, was no exception. Aside from Aires and his children, she was the most fearsome huntress in all of Olympus. Skilled with a bow in ways Hyojin aspired to surpass, but she was power and nature incarnate, and he was merely a thread of that very power. 

Outwardly, she was gentle and serene, but a raging caged animal within. Her dedication to her role as a natural caregiver was her most admirable quality (perhaps her  _ only _ admirable quality), but despite the generous handful of responsibilities that had been bestowed upon her...it never seemed to be enough. 

Hyojin was nearly through the gates of his mother’s colossal complex when an arrow whizzed past, barely skimming the shell of his ear. 

The arrow made contact with one of the towering support pillars of the front gates. The weapon’s speed and momentum were overwhelming, nearly spearing through half of the shaft. He peered at the fletching, which sat at the very end of the arrow, and couldn’t help but recognize the distinct and ornate design that was limited to his own family. 

_ “Lose something?” _


	3. the son of a goddess and his fear

Orion was the best friend to Hyojin’s mother, and on most occasions it wasn’t unusual for him to show up unexpectedly like this, they both had a tendency of appearing when they least expected it. 

Hyojin honestly believed that the only reason his mother and Orion even bothered to put up with one another after all of these years, after all of the things they’ve done to one another, is because they simply knew too much. It meant they had leverage against one another, and there was no telling what two finely skilled warriors could do with that much weaponry within their grasp. 

“Sir…” 

Seungjun’s father bridged the gap that separated them, pulling the wedged arrow from the pillar before handing it to Hyojin. Hyojin could only hope that the very distinct wreckage in his mother’s entrance would be enough to distract her long enough to make her forget that he’d slipped between spheres...again. 

“It amazes me that the gods manage to forget that they’re not supposed to leave a trace of themselves in the human realm…” Hyojin fumbled with the arrowhead as Orion circled him as if he were sizing up helpless prey. “Even though they’re the ones who birthed such a rule.” 

Hyojin couldn’t help but scan the yard for any sign of that familiar mop of blonde hair. Anytime Orion decided to grace them with his presence, Hyojin silently hoped Seungjun would be with him, but was never really surprised when he was met with disappointment. 

“I’ve come to visit your mother  _ hundreds  _ of times ever since you were a child,” Orion slowed his step until they were facing each other. The elder always towered over him in a way that made him feel like he were lesser than, as if their roles had been reversed. And in many ways, Orion fit many of the defining qualities of the gods, but his son's humanity was a scalding reminder of what he’d never be. “And still you look for him, knowing he’ll never be there.” 

“He’s my best friend—”

“ _ You _ are a god.” He spat back matter of factly.  _ Bitterly.  _ “He should mean nothing to you.” 

“In the same way that  _ you _ should mean nothing to my mother?” Hyojin’s voice was cold. Their parents were nothing but hypocrites, throwing this excuse and that around trying to explain why it wasn’t natural for him and Seungjun to be friends. And yet, Orion standing before him now was all the proof he could ever need to deflect such excuses. “And yet, you cling to one another shamelessly.”

“By coming to the human realm, you negate the hard work and discipline I’ve spent countless years trying to instill into that boy,” Orion deflected. “He cannot live an immortal life like us. He is merely human. Spending his free time with the likes of the gods does nothing but shatter his reality of the fate that awaits him.” 

Hyojin knew all along that Seungjun secretly craved to live a life like his own, like his father’s, who had been granted the gift of immortality for the great deeds he’d done ages ago. There was no dismissing the subtle frustration and cataclysmic fear that Seungjun surely felt whenever they acknowledged that one day they would no longer have one another to lean on. Hyojin wasn’t sure what scared him more: having to face the void that would come with Seungjun’s eventual death, or having to essentially abandon Seungjun once he crossed over into the Elysian plain for eternity. At least he had that thought alone to comfort him. It’s the only comfort that came with Orion being Seungjun’s father; Seungjun would at least be safe once death claimed him. 

“He still has the rest of his life to prove himself,” Hyojin claimed with a casual shrug. “He—”

“He will not live an immortal life,” Orion interjected. “He won’t.” 

“You’re no oracle.” 

“I  _ forbid _ it.” 

Hyojin shook his head slowly, almost in disbelief, “Do you truly hate your son that much? He’s to be your legacy, will embody your ideals and teachings, and you would hate to spend eternity with him.” 

“It would mean spending an eternity in  _ your  _ company,” Orion dared a step toward him. A smug smirk spread across his face as he said, “You don’t think I can’t see it— _ feel _ it. What lingers in the deep connection between you and my son. Your very friendship threatens everything I have planned for him.” 

Hyojin flinched at the blow. 

“He  _ is  _ destined for greatness,” Orion continued. “I will make sure he is remembered in the stars for something far greater than what I accomplished with my humanity...and he  _ will _ live to see it written.” 

There was no justification for the sinking feeling Hyojin felt in the pit of his stomach. He knew better than anyone that Seungjun was no one to fear, and that Orion could never lay a hand on a god to harm them. Yet, for whatever warning this was meant to be, the overwhelming sense of dread made him feel empty. 


	4. the son of a goddess and his suspicions

“So what you’re saying is Orion was in Olympus and you  _ didn’t  _ tell me?!” Jaeyoung huffed a petty sigh before plopping down next to Yuto. 

Jaeyoung, Hyojin, and Yuto were hiding out in an overgrown patch of grass in a meadow just near Yuto’s mother’s cottage. Since it was such a big deal that Hyojin visited the human realm to see Seungjun, he opted for coming to visit Yuto instead with the hopes that Seungjun could feel his presence nearby. That is until he reminded himself that Seungjun did not possess the same intuition as him or his extended family. 

Demeter didn't prefer to live on Olympus—she continues the upkeep of her private estate, but it mostly remains empty for the greater part of the year—and very rarely were either of her children allowed to visit with her while she was in the realm for business. So, it was not often Hyojin got to see Yuto, and it’s been ages since his sister has been seen or heard from. 

“It’s not like he stayed very long…”

“ _ Still!!”  _ Jaeyoung whined. “You’re supposed to be one of my best friends.” 

Hyojin shot a look of mild annoyance towards Yuto, who could only bring himself to shrug and feign innocence (or perhaps not, since Yuto was the purest of their friend group). Yuto did everything he could to remain neutral amongst the six of them; Hyojin wasn’t sure if it was because of the innocence that was associated with youth or if it was because of his strict upbringing. Since they didn’t get to see each other often he’d never been able to determine why he insisted on his neutral position. 

“You didn’t get in too much trouble with your mom did you?” Yuto asked softly, hands shoved deep in the sleeves of his cream colored sweater. 

“She treats me like I’m a child…” Hyojin rolled his eyes. “I’m over five hundred years old—”

“That makes you a child,” Jaeyoung interjected.

“—she can’t control me. If I want to see my friends, which includes Seungjun  _ and _ Yuto, then I should be able to come and go as I please.” 

Yuto sighed, “At least you’re allowed to go...well,  _ anywhere.”  _

Hyojin frowned ever so slightly. He couldn’t help but feel bad complaining about his living situation and the way his mother tried to wedge her influence into every little thing he did, all while Demeter quite literally ruled over Yuto’s life with an iron fist. Ever since his sister had voluntarily left Olympus to bathe and indulge in the darkness and riches of the Underworld, Demeter had latched onto Yuto with all of her might. 

It was only on days like today when Demeter was within the liveliness of Mount Olympus that Yuto could escape his daily life to spend time with Hyojin, Jaeyoung, and the rest of their friends. 

Jaeyoung waved a hand between them as if trying to break the sudden awkwardness that had settled between them. “Where is Seungjun anyways??” 

Yuto looked momentarily confused at the mention of the name, until realization scattered across his features. Seungjun and Yuto only ever had the opportunity to formally meet on one other occasion, and Hyojin was still bothered by the fact that it hadn’t been a very long meeting either. 

Hyojin rolled his shoulders into a stretch, the muscles in his back flexing only long enough to release the pent up strain that came with sitting. He eased himself down until he was laying on his back, “He probably doesn’t even realize we’re nearby.”

A puzzled look stretched somewhere in Jaeyoung’s eyes. 

The elder sighed and shut his eyes against the harsh light of the sun, “We are fools to often forget that Seungjun is nothing like us. He wasn’t born to be like us. We can easily sense one another coming and going from Olympus, but Seungjun cannot wield the power of the gods. His mortality may make him considerably weaker, physically and spiritually, but...he’s always been much stronger than the rest of us.”

Jaeyoung scoffed, puffing his chest out pridefully, “I’m the son to the god of  _ war _ .” 

Hyojin opened his eyes just fast enough to see that it was actually Yuto who rolled his eyes. 

“Why don’t we just go to him?” Jaeyoung asked. 

“It hasn’t been too long since his father came to visit me. Orion knows when we come to the human realm, when  _ I  _ come to the human realm…” Hyojin speaks aloud. Sighing with frustration, he says, “Apparently he sees something in my friendship with Seungjun that threatens whatever master plan he’s constructed for him. It’s too soon for us to try to see him, I wouldn’t want to do anything that would put him in harm's way.” 

Jaeyoung crossed his arms, a look of disbelief soaked into his face, “You really believe Orion would do something to hurt his  _ only _ heir? And a son at that.” 

Hyojin couldn’t help but worry either way. Orion would always be a warrior before a father to Seungjun. Hyojin knew better than anyone that Seungjun has never been considered to be a priority in their household. Nothing more than a disappointment of the dream that Orion had for a warrior son. Seungjun was the opposite to all of that. He was too scrawny, despite the three square meals he ate every single day. He was too feminine. Too kind. He was this, he was that. 

And yet, as of the other day, Orion spoke as if Seungjun were the apple of his eye. The finest warrior he’d ever come to train and present to the world. The  _ next  _ mortal savior to the human realm. But the pit growing in Hyojin’s stomach reminded him otherwise. 

A subtle ache formed in his temples trying to sort out the endless inconsistencies. 

“Hyojin?” Yuto wrapped his fingers around Hyojin’s wrist. The touch itself was anchoring, comforting. “Do you really think it’s possible?”

“The only thing I’m sure of is that Orion wants me nowhere near his son,” Hyojin clarified. “There’s no telling what he has planned. As long as Seungjun is safe, that’s all I care about.” 

“Seungjun hasn’t said anything to you?” Jaeyoung asked. 

Hyojin shook his head. “Seungjun is Seungjun. It’s always the same whenever I visit. He’s always on edge, but he’s been that way since day one. I think his paranoia about being caught doing something he shouldn’t be is just etched into his personality.” 

“But he hasn’t said anything out of the ordinary?” 

He sorted through the bits and pieces of his last conversation with Seungjun, searching for  _ anything  _ that might have seemed strange. Anything abnormal. 

Hyojin was vaguely aware of Yuto’s grip tightening around his wrist, surely the younger could see the strain written all over his face, and he couldn’t help but feel grateful for the gesture and company. 

It was at that moment he could feel all of the stress release from his muscles as the sudden realization overwhelmed every single ounce of his soul. 

“There  _ was  _ something,” he said. “He said something about how it was always him having to face the consequences of my being here.” 

Jaeyoung’s face twisted with confusion. Even Yuto looked somewhat perplexed by the sudden confession. 

“You don’t think…” Jaeyoung’s thought trailed off as he turned to Yuto. It almost seemed as if they were speaking to one another, exchanging words silently with just their eyes. 

Yuto shook his head reluctantly, anxiously, “No...he wouldn’t do that to his son. That’s his  _ only  _ son.” 

Hyojin felt as if his heart was stuck deep in his throat. He didn’t want to focus on what either of his friends were trying to insinuate, didn’t want to even propose the idea that Seungjun was in any sort of immediate danger. 

Suddenly, Hyojin felt as if his whole world had collapsed all around him. He didn’t ask to be born as the son of a goddess, didn’t ask to be faced with greater obligations to the universe. He’d lost everything that was supposed to be dear and meaningful to him the day his mother created him out of nothing. The day he’d lost his chance at humanity. 

He didn’t like to think that he was using Seungjun as a muse to that lost connection to a version of himself he craved, but the more he tried to deny it, the more he realized it was true. Yet, even then, Seungjun’s humanity was limited in the same way Yuto has always been limited in being able to fully connect with their culture and its cosmic power. Both had overwhelming parents who desperately wanted to shape their child into the next best version of themselves. The future. Their  _ legacy.  _ The only difference is that Yuto can take it. His body could be pushed to unimaginable limits, while Seungjun was limited to the mortality he’d been born with. Restricted in more ways than not. 

“What are we going to do, Hyo?” Yuto whispered breathlessly. “Should we talk to him?”

For the first time in nearly an age, Hyojin was speechless. His confidence crumbled under the weight of his fear. But there had to be something he could do.

He had to see Seungjun. He had to know for himself. The gods and their companions be damned. 


	5. the son of an immortal soul

It’s been about a week since Seungjun had last seen Hyojin. 

Frankly, it wasn’t easy to communicate with the sons and daughters of gods and goddesses. It wasn’t as simple as picking up the phone and calling in order to see how they were doing. It wasn’t like he could just walk down the street and Hyojin would be there. They lived in a whole other realm, separate and tucked securely away from humanity. 

Needless to say, the cell reception isn’t great there. 

It’s  _ also _ been nearly a week since Seungjun had been allowed to leave the house to do anything leisurely. He knew his father didn’t like that he spent his free time with Hyojin and their friends, but he’d never seen his father so angry about it before. For the remainder of the week, he’d only been allowed outside whenever they took the time out of their day to do weapons training. But when they weren’t doing that, he was to be confined to his room. 

He couldn’t help but wonder how Hyojin was doing. Had he come to the mortal realm again since their last meeting? Had he been waiting for him in that forest? Since their friendship was mostly built on mortal chance and trust, there were many times they waited in that forest for nearly a whole day waiting to see if the other would show up. There were so many occasions in which they barely missed one another by a matter of minutes. It never seemed to fail that someone was bound to show up right at the very moment the other cleared the thick brush of trees. And since time flows differently in Olympus, there was no point in trying to coordinate. 

Seungjun gazed out of his window, admiring the natural beauty of the night sky in the midst of autumn. There were many nights that he wished Hyojin and their friends could all be here to relish in the simple beauty with him, but he also knew how difficult it was for the children of Olympians to even wander beyond the gates of their respective homes. Let alone the sphere that would bring them to the mortal realm. 

Granted, some of the gods and goddesses could care less as to what their children do, as long as they merely stayed out of their way (and out of trouble). Jaeyoung, Minkyun, and Changyoon were all familiar with that lifestyle, while Hyojin and Yuto remained confined to their parent’s wishes and demands. 

Seungjun sighed, leaning his temple up against the cool glass, his gaze stretching far into the abysmal horizon. “I hope you’re okay...all of you.” 

The day Hyojin left, Seungjun had been caught by his father while attempting to hide the cache of arrows underneath one of the loose floor boards. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His father had demanded. He knocked Seungjun off of his feet in an effort to pry the arrows from his hands. “What is  _ this _ ?!” 

“If you just give me a few moments to explain—”

“You were with  _ him _ again, weren’t you?” 

Seungjun had sucked in a deep breath. “And if I was?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not safe being around those...beasts?!” An ear splitting crack echoed throughout the room as several arrows drooped in Orion’s fist. He let the well decorated weaponry fall to the ground as he said, “Can’t you see that everything I do is to protect you and—”

“Are you also protecting me by going to Olympus to see Hyojin’s mother?”

His father looked as if he’d been smacked across the face, “How  _ dare _ you talk back to me like—”

“Wouldn’t loving her make you a beast as well?” 

Before he even had the time to throw another blow to his father’s hypocritical pride, his face made contact with the wall. Hard. The residual sting at his cheek made his face feel like it was on fire. 

Truthfully, he still wasn’t entirely sure if it were for that reason, or because that very motion somehow jolted a dormant well of anger that lingered deep inside of him. 

Anger bloomed, as red as a rose, on Orion’s face. 

Seungjun managed to bring himself to his feet, refusing to let his own father make him feel ashamed for something as innocent as spending time with the people he cared about. 

“You’ve spent my whole life trying to instill this notion that the Olympians aren’t fit to rule over humanity, that it’s no longer their place to interfere with the modern realm.” He ran a hand through his hair, his mind running rampant with. “If the gods and goddesses of Olympus are so dangerous and demonic...then why did you introduce me to them in the first place?! Why did you ever let me think I had a chance of actually being friends with someone who understands me and my situation?” 

Orion rolled his eyes. “Those  _ beings  _ could never understand you, son. They don't feel emotions, not in the same way we do. Their understanding of our world is just as skewed as the general public’s perception of their world.” His father took a daunting step closer. Seungjun made an effort to take a step back, but was met with nothing but a solid wall. “You think those  _ friends  _ of yours can truly understand you? They are gods, Seungjun. They lack sympathy for our kind, they lack empathy.” 

Seungjun shook his head. “You don’t get it...you never will. Because you’re just like them. Empty, cruel, emotionless. You’re everything that you said the gods are supposed to be...and then some.” 

“You think you know it all because you’re close to their children,” Orion gritted through his teeth. Squaring his shoulders he said, “ _ Fine _ , let’s see how far you get in their company, but don’t come running to me when they turn their backs on you when it’s time for them to make difficult choices for themselves.” 

“You don’t even know them…” He replied, voice strained against the tears that threatened to spill over. “You know nothing about them.” 

It was quiet for a long moment, and for even a sliver of a second Seungjun almost believed that his father was going to let it go for once, that his deafening silence would be the lesson that he’d eventually understand. But Seungjun could see the wheels turning in that timeless mind, and he knew that this would end no other way than his father getting the final word. 

“I don’t need to know them…” Orion crossed his arms across his chest, eyeing the shards from the arrows that had fallen. “They are nothing more than an extension of their parents and the ideologies they’ve spent ages drilling into those children. You’re going to learn the hard way that, to the gods, there is nothing more important than power.” 

“When are you going to realize that power isn’t everything?!” 

“If that’s what you really believe, then you know nothing of the world.” 


End file.
